


the perils of popular radio

by Companionable



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also Adam Levine dances like a God, M/M, Maroon 5 is too catchy for my own good, Random plot bunny madness, Read with caution for this is not meant to be taken seriously, fluffy goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2012-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Companionable/pseuds/Companionable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek checks up on his pack, minding his duties as Alpha, and stumbles upon a peculiar sight, stirring something he may have been ignoring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the perils of popular radio

Sometimes, when Derek is not basking in all the power and strength it gives him, Derek hates being the Alpha. Yes, he’s stronger, yes, he holds power over all those he bit and turned, and yes, he has a newfound and absolutely pleasing sense of control. Excellent. Perfect. Just as he planned. 

Except he didn’t plan to be caring for so many people like an overstretched nanny. The number of times he’s been around the borders of Beacon Hills has probably reached the hundreds since turning his three new pack members, and while he’s never physically tired from travelling around, that says nothing for how emotionally he’s drained.

Boyd is sleeping soundlessly in his bedroom, parents blissfully unaware that Derek just retrieved him from loping through the woods in anger. Derek sits on the roof of Boyd’s house for a moment longer, making sure his sleep is deep. He’s already been around to Isaac’s hideout, who’s doing a good job of laying low being that he’s the most in control of his emotions and transformations. Derek can tell Isaac is going to be the strongest in his pack. Boyd will take work. 

Erica has been harder to reign in, but she’s been given a direct order from the Alpha that she’s to remain at home at night until her parents are asleep, and beyond that, she’s in the clear as long as she doesn’t kill, maim, or hurt anyone. He made it clear that a violation of any of these orders is grounds for some severe punishment, and he took her whimpered affirmation as good as a promise. Which covers his new pack.

Now Derek finds himself leaving Jackson’s roof, having already stopped at Lydia’s and Scott’s. All are safe, none hear him come and go, but for one. He puts on this brave face, this Alpha-veneer, a mask of pride for Allison and Scott, and even Jackson. But more than anything, Derek just wants people to trust in his pack. He wants to be trusted, but he doesn’t trust Erica or Isaac or Boyd with his PIN, let alone his life. He could trust Scott. He could trust…

He stops his brain and his feet, staring up at the Stilinski residence, staring up at Stiles’ room. But there’s something wrong with this picture, because Stiles’ light is still on. It’s the middle of the night, Stiles should be fast asleep, even Scott was in bed and not with Allison.

In a flash, Derek’s on the roof, hiding in the shadows beside Stiles’ window. He peers in, catching Stiles in the middle of studying. He’s got a Chemistry book on his desk and his music on loud, glancing between his laptop and textbook and notes and handouts. His father must be on the night shift, because Stiles is singing terribly, absently as he scribbles in his notebook.

Yes, Derek could trust Stiles. Absent-minded, blabber-mouth, hyperactive Stiles is about the one person Derek’s ever met in his life that he’s trusted on sight. He’s forgetful, he’s headstrong, he’s a doer, not a thinker, and from the moment Derek got shot and showed up at the vet’s with the Wolf’s Bane bullet in his arm, handed Stiles that bone-saw, and asked him to save him, Derek has trusted him. 

It’s strange as well, because it goes beyond trust. It’s a connection, it’s a bond, and Derek only hopes that some where Stiles feels it too—

“ _You wanted control/So we waited/I put on a show/Now I make it/You say I’m a kid/My ego is big/I don’t give a shit/And it goes like this…_ ”

Derek’s thoughts are interrupted by Stiles’ leaping up from his desk and singing into his pen. For a moment, all Derek can do is stare as Stiles starts dancing to the chorus.

“ _Take me by the tongue and I’ll know you/Kiss me ‘til you’re drunk and I’ll show you/All the moves like Jagger/I’ve got the moves like Jagger/I’ve got the mooo-oooo-ooo-ooves like Jagger!_ ”

Stiles is dancing like a drunk, horny girl at a club around his room, swaying and twirling his hips, singing falsetto into his pen with his head thrown back and a hand in his hair, his eyes and nose scrunched up comically… And Derek is having a very tough time not howling in laughter right there on his roof.

Stiles throws himself back on his bed, affecting every rocker pose any 80’s rock-star has ever hit, made even more sexual by Stiles being _Stiles_ , and that’s just _great_ isn’t it because now Derek’s got a boner that he definitely didn’t need.

“ _I don’t need to try to control you/Look into my eyes and I’ll own you/With them moves like Jagger/I’ve got the moves like Jagger/I’ve got the mooo-oooo-ooo-ooves like Jagger!_ ”

Stiles rolls around on his bed, still singing meaningfully into his pen, and then in the middle of the “oooooves,” he rolls right the hell off his bed and onto the floor, eliciting a half-hearted “oof!” with the “like Jagger” following belatedly. And that’s what sends Derek over the edge into hysterics, letting out a huge guffaw, and then Stiles’ head pops up from under his window sill, eyes narrowed and accusatory. When he sees Derek, he stands, anger and embarrassment written all over his face in his flush and his heartbeat. Derek’s still laughing.

“Derek! Jesus Christ, how far are you going to take your creeper-pedo persona you’re rocking?! Seriously, the face and the leather jacket were totally enough, but I think you could’ve stopped at stalking and peeping, holy shit!” Stiles is now glowing bright pink and his heart is racing, and all Derek can do is creep forward on his roof, still laughing, and grab Stiles by the face, who’s laughing with him now, the two of them in hysterics in the middle of the night, Maroon 5 fading out in the background.

“God, Stiles, you’re perfect,” Derek says, sealing his mouth over Stiles’ before either of them can think better of it, before either of them can realize how stupid they’re being, before either of them can start making excuses for the other again.

It’s slow and it’s chaste and it’s long and it’s warm, but most of all Stiles doesn’t pull away from him and Derek realizes he’s never wanted him to. But when oxygen becomes a problem, Derek pulls back whispering “I’m sorry,” on Stiles’ lips. Their foreheads are pressed together, their breaths are still joined, and they're both still laughing.

Derek goes to pull away, but Stiles grabs his wrist, his goofy grin plastered on his face all lop-sided, and he tosses into the wind that’s picked up, “Come again tomorrow night?”

Derek laughs again, offers, “Can I make requests?” Stiles nods, and now their both chuckling again. “Call Me, Maybe,” and is rewarded as he leaps from the Stilinski roof with Stiles shouting “Lame!” at the top of his lungs.

Yep. Derek trusts Stiles a whole damn lot.

**Author's Note:**

> NOW HERE’S A REALLY WEIRD ONE. I dunno, Moves Like Jagger popped up on the radio, as catchy songs are wont to do, AND THIS WAS ALL MY BRAIN COULD PRODUCE. I just like the idea of Stiles being SUCH A BONE-HEAD on his own that Derek just like... cannot even help himself, AND SUCCUMBS TO THE ADORKABLE DOOFUS he's inextricably tied to.


End file.
